


Depresso Espresso

by MistAndMagic



Series: Depresso Espresso [1]
Category: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Right now it's just hurt, hurtfic, look scathach is traumatized and Not Having A Fun Time, not scathach, or billy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistAndMagic/pseuds/MistAndMagic
Summary: Set just after The Enchantress ends. I'll come up with a better title at some point.Edit: the title will remain as it is now that I've managed to work coffee into the story
Series: Depresso Espresso [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974256
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

It had started in the same way so many other things had.

After a battle, crouched in the wreckage, covered in blood and mourning the loss of the last of her family as the world moved around her, with tears running down her face. It always came to this, didn’t it? She couldn’t ever seem to keep those she loved from harm, no matter what- like the universe always forced her to trade a life for a life. 

Well. Sophie was safe at least. Josh? Scathach hadn’t seen him since- the top of the pyramid. Prometheus, gone. Nicholas and Perenelle and Aoife- all just… gone. Snuffed from existence like their lives meant nothing, and her left alone once more. She straightened, brushing herself off with a short, sharp shake of her head. No time to grieve, the world’s moving on same as it always does, cold and unfeeling, and she had to move with it or be drowned in the emotions she always said she couldn’t feel.

Lies. Lies to protect herself from being hurt any more. Lies to convince people that she’s okay. Nothing but the lies, for years now, burying thousands of years of pain and trauma and loneliness. Does it really hurt? Do they care? She’s not even sure that they do- that anyone ever has. Not that she’s allowed to care about that sort of thing, she’s never been allowed to. Her parents certainly saw to that, beat it out of her and took the people and things she loved and broke them and discarded them. Her daughter, her lovers, and any friends she dared to make.

A hand falls on her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts, and she flinches violently, grabbing the offending arm and laying the man out on the ground before staring at Billy’s face uncomprehendingly as he groans, rubbing his shoulder. “Sorry- didn’t mean to scare you.” He says as he pushes himself up, and she just keeps staring, brain struggling to wrap itself around that apology before she finally gets it together.

“It’s okay.” Her tone is short and sharp, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Was gonna ask if you wanted a ride home or anything- shit, are you bleeding?” His voice is full of concern, and she can’t stand it as she clamps her hand down on her bloody side and lies through her teeth. 

“No. I’m fine.” She’s not fine. She can’t remember the last time she was. It’s been centuries, if not longer, if ever. He touches the hand on her side, and she jerks away, stumbling back to put space between them.

“Don’t touch me, fuck off. I can take care of myself.” That was maybe a bit harsh, but all she’s ever done- all she knows how to do- is push people away so they don’t get hurt too, or run away if they start caring too much. He holds up his hands, his face a mask of worry. 

“All right, all right.” Billy’s hands come down and he holds them out towards her in a non-threatening gesture, palms up and empty as she eyes him suspiciously. “Easy. Can I drive you back home at least?” He asks quietly, and she shakes her head. 

“No. Thank you. I’ll walk.” She turns away from him with that and starts making her way home, picking through the rubble carefully and stopping on the way back for whatever high-proof alcohol she can find. She doesn’t drink often, but this is one of those nights where she needs to numb the pain and just… mentally check out for a little while. The door to the dojo is closed but the inside is still a mess of splinters and trees when she opens it, then forces her way through and goes up to the bathroom, digging around under her bathroom cabinet for medical supplies as she just tries not to think about everything that just happened. 

Scathach patches herself up right there, sitting on the cold tile floor and staining it with blood as she digs metal shards out of her side and stitches herself up, doing the only thing she knows how- keeping busy to keep the thoughts at bay. 

She ends up in the bedroom after staggering down the short hallway, curled into a ball by the foot of the bed with half the bottle already gone as she sobs into her arm, replaying the battle over and over as her heart twists, blaming herself for everyone who got hurt, everyone who was killed. If she’d just been a little faster or a little more alert, they’d still be alive. She wouldn’t be missing the last of her family that didn’t hate her. Fuck. She picks up the alcohol again and drains the rest of it in one go, coughing and choking on it as it burns and she pulls in a shuddering breath, shoving her fingers through her hair and almost pulling it out, shuddering violently. Monster, monster, monster. That’s all she is. A murderer. A monster. Everything hurts, body and soul, but she doesn’t dare inflict herself on anyone else- no matter how lonely she is. 

“I don’t need anyone.” The words echo in the empty apartment, small and only half-genuine as she attempts to convince herself. “I don’t- feel. I shouldn’t. I can’t.” Another ragged sob. Isn’t her race supposed to be emotionless? Cold, hard warriors? She’s a failure, again. Feels too strongly, too much- always has.

She eventually falls asleep like that, drunk and tear-stained, curled on the floor and wedged against the foot of the bed- she doesn’t usually sleep, but she’s exhausted and broken- and stays like that until the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Scathach wakes up to sunlight streaming through the window and stirs, her whole body aching after sleeping on the floor for so long and her head pounding from a hangover.

Her first thought: _Why am I awake?_   
Her second thought: _Ow._

She sits up slowly, one hand going to her injured side while the other one braces against the floor and she winces, before jumping rather violently and letting out a soft cry of pain as there’s a knock on the alley door. _‘Who the hell is here this time of the morning- what time is it anyways?’_ She gropes around before finding the end of the bed and pulling herself up, glancing at the clock. 8am, not too terribly early… later than she thought, at least.

She pulls on a sweatshirt as she goes downstairs, opening the door to the hallway and then the alley door, glaring at whoever’s standing there. “What do you want?” The young man takes a step back. “Scathach? Hi, sorry, didn’t mean to bother you. I just- breakfast?” He holds out a bag in front of him, from her favorite local bakery, and she blinks.

“Billy? I- it’s 8am.” A brief pause as she just stares at him. “Why are you here anyways? And with food no less?” She does reach out and take the bag though, opening it up and inspecting the contents. “Scratch that, how do you even know what I like?” She glances back up at him, and he shrugs.

“I guessed.” He says with a bit of a grin, and she shakes her head, handing the bag back.

“Thanks, but… I’m good.” Why, why, is he so goddamn determined? She doesn’t deserve him. She never will. He’s too sweet, too kind, too good- never anything less than a gentleman. She’s nothing but a monster. Her heart does drop a bit as his expression falls though, and she rubs the back of her neck with a sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be running errands for Quetzcoatl?” She raises an eyebrow, and he shrugs.

“Yeah, but… I decided to swing by and see how you were doing.” He looks her over, and she scowls a bit. She’s well aware she looks terrible- exhausted, hungover, scraped and bruised and covered in flecks of dried blood she couldn’t be bothered to wash off yesterday.

“Thanks. I’m fine though. Worry about yourself.” It’s almost a snarl as her walls come all the way back up, pushing away everyone she could potentially care about- or who could care about her- so she doesn’t get hurt again. It’s a defense mechanism built from thousands of years of losing everyone precious to her, the hurt and aching loneliness of it embedded in her soul. He takes a step back.

“All right. Take care.” His smile is almost sad as he puts his hat back on and wanders down the alleyway, and her stomach growls as she shuts the door. She’s rarely hungry these days, but her body is demanding energy and fuel to heal. She ignores it as she goes back upstairs, slowly, and then downs a glass of water before curling up, in bed this time. She should be doing things. Teaching students, cleaning up her dojo, showering… but all she wants to do is stay right here until she dies.

The rest of the day passes in a haze. It’s like she’s not in her own body- everything is fuzzy and not-quite-real and she can’t sleep but she’s not quite awake either. She finally gets up, well after the sky is dark, and makes herself a cup of tea and changes into clean sweatpants and a t-shirt before going downstairs, hands wrapped around her mug as she surveys the damage. This is going to take forever to fix… She sighs, takes a long drink, then sets her mug aside and starts to rip up trees. It has to be cleaned before she can teach again, and even though moving hurts right now, it’s nice to be doing something and getting her mind off everything for a bit.

She spends all night doing that, until the trees are all piled in the hallway, the mess from the exploded golem is mopped up, and there’s nothing more she can do until she gets new floorboards. Her tea’s gone cold and her body aches, but her mind finally isn’t screaming and that’s all she can ask for right now. The sun’s up and people are starting to move around outside, noise and the smell of food starting to float into her apartment, making her stomach growl. When’s the last time she ate…? It’s been a while. She goes back upstairs, poking through the kitchen cupboards. Bare, bare, and bare, except for a tin of loose tea and some instant coffee. Fuck. She feels around in her pockets, then goes back to her bedroom, hunting for her wallet. She’s gotta have some cash somewhere around here, right? She eventually finds a 20 and changes into jeans and boots before heading out, wandering the streets of Chinatown and eventually getting something from a street vendor, not even really caring what it is as long as it’s food.

There’s a bench out front of a store nearby and she sits down to eat, unwrapping her curry bao bun and taking a bite as she watches the world move, people going about their daily business. None of them have any idea what happened, how close the world came to ending… but that’s why she does what she does. So they don’t have to worry about the monsters in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

She sits there for a while, contemplating life and people watching, until well after her food is finished and the morning rush has settled down. She gets up, throwing the wrapper in a nearby trash can, and then just starts walking, taking the long way back to her dojo, through all the winding back alleys. She’s halfway back when something- a loud crash, followed by a yelp- catches her attention, and she diverts that way, going towards the noise, only to find Billy the Kid pinned to an alley wall by some cucubaths, their bushy tails poking out of their jeans. 

“Hey, hey, come on now, I’m sure we can talk this out.” Billy’s stammering, one of his eyes already bruising and blood staining his shirt, his revolvers sitting on the grimy pavement nearby alongside a dead cucubath. None of them have noticed her there yet, but goddamnit, she owes him- or that’s what she tells herself at least. So she steps forwards. 

“Let him go. Or I’ll spread your guts across this back alley.” She’s grouchy already, the words snarled more than anything else, and the ones that aren’t holding Billy turn to look. Her knife- the only weapon she brought with her on her walk- is in her hand, but she doesn’t need any more than that as one moves towards her, a smirk on his face.

“Oh yeah? And how’re you gonna do that?” He raises an eyebrow, taunting her. Mistake. She lunges and brings the knife up and across his throat all in one motion, leaving him grabbing at his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood as he stumbles back, eyes wide.

“Like that. Anyone else? Or are you going to let him go?” She cocks her head, studying the rest of them as Billy watches her, seemingly too surprised to form words. Well, that’s a first. The rest of them come at her and she dispatches them easily before going over to Billy, offering him a hand and pulling him to his feet. “You’re a fucking moron and I’m not going to rescue you again. Now come on.” She half-drags him back towards her apartment and he just follows along behind her, opening and closing his mouth like a fish every so often as he struggles to process what just happened. She opens the door once they get there and shuts it behind him, then points to the stairs. He gets the idea and goes up as she takes her shoes off, standing awkwardly in the kitchen as he waits.

“Uh… thanks.” He just stares at her as she comes up as well. 

“It’s whatever. Now go sit in the bathroom so you stop bleeding all over my kitchen. Over there.” She points him towards it and he opens the door, sitting on the edge of the tub as she gets her box of medical supplies from where she’d left it in the bedroom. She comes in and sets it down on the counter a minute later. “So, where’s all the blood coming from?” She asks as she looks him over, and he unbuttons his shirt with a wince, letting it slide off. There’s a big gash in his chest and stomach, and some other, smaller cuts and scratches and bruises. He’s still unusually quiet, though whether that’s from shock or pain or surprise, she doesn’t know. Usually, he doesn’t shut up… it’s kind of endearing though, to be honest- the nonstop stream of chatter. She pours some peroxide over a gauze pad and crouches down in front of him, carefully starting to clean out his injuries as he swears under his breath, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles. 

“Fuck that stings.” His voice is thick with an indefinable accent that’s not quite southern and not quite Irish thanks to the pain and shock. “Goddamn.” She glances up at him, then looks back at his cuts. 

“I’ll be done soon.” Her voice is soft as she tries not to focus on the man in front of her, just the blood and the wounds that need tending to. She stitches him up, then cleans out the scrapes and gouges on his forearms and shoulders and back. “Fucking hell… It looks like they dragged you down the road.” She remarks, and he shrugs slightly, facing away from her now. 

“I mean… they did. I’m fine though.” He mutters, something in his voice and the way he holds himself suggesting that he’s a bit more shaken up than he originally let on. She can practically feel the fear drifting off him.

“So… how’d you piss them off in the first place?” She asks as she straightens and gets a new gauze pad, tossing the other one in the trash before going back to cleaning him up. She’s almost done.

“Iiiiii…” He hesitates, wincing a bit as she wipes out a particularly deep one. “Well. I was running errands for Quetzalcoatl, and a pack of ‘em jumped me, trying to steal what I was running. So I killed them, and now apparently every damn cucubath in the city wants a piece of me.” She finishes what she was doing and washes her hands, cleaning everything up and putting it away.

“Ouch. So, what are you going to do about it? Nothing stupid, I hope. Like I said… I’m not rescuing you again.” She puts the box back in the cabinet under the counter, then goes and gets him a clean sweatshirt that’s pretty big on her but should fit just right on him, tossing it to him as she comes back in. “Here. Til you can get home.” He catches it and nods in thanks, pulling it on.

“Thank you. Well, I was planning on laying low for a few weeks, but see how well that turned out.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “If I’m gonna be honest, I dunno what I’m gonna do now.” He looks up at her as she leans against the counter. “Probably just head home and hunker down, and hope they don’t show up on my doorstep. I can deal with a few without struggling too much, but a whole pack… I dunno.” She nods when he’s done talking.

“You… could stay here for a few days.” She offers, without even thinking about it. “I did promise to teach you how to use a second baton- I could set up the couch in my office downstairs.” He blinks in surprise, then scratches his chin, considering.

“Suprised you even still remember making that offer- it was a while ago.” He admits as he mulls it over, and she smiles a bit.

“I never forget a promise. So. Staying?” She raises an eyebrow, and he nods. 

“Yeah- yeah, I will. Can’t let Quetzacoatl find out about it though. He’d tan my hide.” He grins, and she can’t help but chuckle.

“He would. You stay here, I’ll go get the couch set. If you go into my bedroom, I will know, and I don’t care that I just patched you up- I will take your head off.” She stares him down, dead serious, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Stay here, don’t move. Got it.” He smiles, and she shakes her head before going downstairs, stopping just outside the bathroom to get a blanket and some pillows out of the linen cabinet. 

What was she thinking? Why did she offer to let him stay after she’s been avoiding him for the last few days, and not only that, but actively rejecting him? She shakes her head as she opens the door to the office and unplugs the phone, then sets up the couch.

_‘I hope I didn’t just make a big mistake…’_


	4. Chapter 4

She finishes what she was doing and goes back upstairs- and sure enough, he’s still sitting exactly where he was when she left. “Okay. Couch is set. You can stay for a few nights, but that’s it.” She says firmly, and he nods.

“All right. I appreciate it, honest.” He smiles, and she just half-glares at him. 

“I’m only helping you because I owe you one. After this, we’re settled. Got it?” She’s keeping him pinned down under her gaze, and he nods again.

“Yep. No problem. I’ll help around your dojo, if you want. I don’t mind. Clean, or whatever else.” He offers, and she finally softens a bit.

“I might just take you up on that… it does still need a lot of repairs, and I suppose you’re pretty handy.” She sighs. “I’m sure you saw the floorboards when we came in.”

Billy nods. “I did- what happened to ‘em? That’s some serious destruction.”

“Long story. Long, long story, involving one Dr. John Dee, and a lot of magic.” She glances back out the door at the wooden carnage. “Only happened a few weeks ago.” She shrugs a little. “Oh well. Suppose this place did need an update. All right. I guess you need sleep?” She takes a step back and gives him an awkward little half-smile before shutting the door quietly behind herself and going back upstairs. It’s late now, and she’s so fucking tired  _ again,  _ so she goes and gets changed into pajamas before flopping down in bed with a groan- it’s so weird to know that there’s someone else here, sleeping downstairs. No one ever stays over. Not here, anyways. 

It doesn’t take long for Scathach to fall asleep, and the next thing she knows, she’s suddenly waking to someone shaking her shoulder, her throat raw and aching as she launches herself out of bed and pins them to the ground, panting wildly even though she doesn’t even really need to breathe- and Billy’s there, on the ground, beneath her cocked fist, looking utterly terrified. She pushes herself off of him and brushes herself off, swearing. 

“What the hell are you doing up here?” She pulls him to his feet, looking him over, and he stammers a few times before finally managing to find his voice. 

“You were-" He pauses. "You were screaming. Loud enough I could hear it downstairs. So I came up to make sure you were all right, and it looked like you were having a nightmare, I guess, so I woke you up.” His words all come tumbling out in a rush. “Uh, are you okay?” He rubs the back of his neck, letting out a shaky breath as she sits down on the edge of her bed, thinking. What had she been dreaming about…? 

She shrugs. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.” There’s a cold edge to her voice again, and he nods a little awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“Yeah, I- I got that. Sorry.” He looks away from her, a bit of a pink flush touching his cheeks. “But, uh… if you ever wanted someone to talk to. I totally get it. The nightmares. I have them sometimes too.” He’s still not looking at her as he speaks, and she looks up at him, a bit of surprise on her face. 

“Thank you.” She says softly. “I really do appreciate that.” She smiles tentatively as his eyes return to her face, and he nods, smiling back. 

“Cool, right, well. I’m just gonna go back to bed then.” He laughs awkwardly, and she nods. 

“I’ll see you in the morning. Sorry for waking you up.” She settles back down when he leaves, shutting the door quietly behind himself, and drifts off again with a long sigh, sleeping quietly for the rest of the night. 


	5. Chapter 5

Scathach wakes up when her alarm goes off early the next morning, reaching over to smack it and turn it off with an irritated groan before getting up out of bed and going to shower, grumbling quietly in an ancient Celtic dialect as she listens to the birds and city life outside. Way too goddamn cheerful for this hour of the morning. Her nose twitches slightly as she catches the smell of something cooking though- pancakes, maybe? Has to be from outside, she still doesn’t have any groceries… She gets out of the shower and dries off and gets dressed, then goes out to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea, yawning, then freezes when she sees Billy, standing by the stove whistling cheerfully as he whips up a batch of pancakes. 

“Uh…” Is all she manages, and he grins as he looks back at her. 

“Mornin’ sunshine! Goddamn, your cabinets were bare. Pretty sure all I found in ‘em was spiders and dust. And like… one thing of tea.” He turns back to the stove as she just comes over and puts a cup of water in the microwave, yawning more as she makes herself a cup of tea and then settles at the small table, just… watching him in utter bafflement. 

“So.” She pauses, pulling her thoughts together. “Did you go grocery shopping?” She’s so confused.

He nods. “Ehyup. Didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted breakfast, now did I?” He grins, and she just wonders how the hell he has so much energy at 6 am, shaking her head. 

“Aaaalll right then. Thank you, I suppose?” She props her chin in her hand after taking a drink of tea, smiling a little. He’s so… domestic, in comparison to her. It’s sweet though. It’s not much longer before he sets two plates down on the table and tucks into his food, wolfing it down as she picks at hers for a minute before actually starting to eat. “They’re good.” She says after a few minutes and he smiles again. 

“Glad you think so. Weren’t sure if you actually ate or not. And now I know.” He gestures to her half-empty plate before taking his own to the sink. 

“Yeah. Sometimes I’m a little bit human.” It’s clearly a joke, and he chuckles. 

“More than a bit if you ask me. Ain’t a bad thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I suppose.” She gets up and brings her plate to the sink as well. “Come on, let’s just go fix the floor. Lots of work to do downstairs- we’ll have to go to the hardware store at some point. I don’t have a ton of extra on hand.” Her emotions are doing weird things with him around, and she’s not sure that she likes it- the last time she felt like this was when she started training Joan and look where that got her. Love and relationships just aren’t meant for her and... she’s all right that way. Alone.

They head downstairs after she gets dressed, and get to work on the trashed dojo, pulling up all the ruined sections of the floor and starting to make repairs. Admittedly, it goes much faster with his help, and they’re done around 4 pm. She looks around and smiles, brushing her hands off on her jeans before stretching with a groan. 

“Looks good- thanks for the help. Now… I did promise you a baton lesson. Are you up for that, or not tonight?” Scathach asks as she looks over at Billy, and he smiles, suddenly looking excited. 

“I’m all right- we can do some tonight. Just definitely gonna need a shower later.” He says, and she nods. 

“Great. Let me go get you a second one.” She disappears into the office for a few moments and comes back with a second baton, as well as a pair of them for herself, and she hands one to him. “There. Okay.” With that, they start their lesson, and she finds herself getting a little too close for comfort to him as she adjusts his stance, positioning his hand with her own, her touch soft as she turns his hip slightly. It’s… actually kind of nice, and she’s pretty glad she can’t blush. He’s just- he’s there, and so enthusiastic, and sweet, and he cares _so goddamn much_. And even though he’s working for Quetzacoatl, he still seems to care about her as a person, even though that’s a bit dangerous for him, considering her relationship with his employer.

As it goes on, she finds herself relaxing and starting to genuinely enjoy teaching him. He’s sharp as a tack and soaks up all the information she gives him like a sponge, and by 6:30, he’s already come quite a ways from where he was when they started. She smiles. “I think that’s pretty good. Want to wrap it up here? You can shower, and then I guess we can go grab dinner somewhere unless you happened to get enough groceries to make that too.” She suggests, and he nods.

“That sounds good. Where’s your shower?” 

She shows him where it is and gets him a towel, shutting and locking her own bedroom door before getting changed into a t-shirt without any holes in it and jeans that aren’t covered in wood stain and dust and glue. Once he’s clean and changed, they head out into Chinatown, finding her favorite street vendor again and getting bao buns before sitting down on a bench. She takes a bite and sighs happily, and he follows suit. 

“These are damn good. Can see why you like them so much. And hey, thanks again for the lesson, and letting me stay and shit.” He looks over at her, and she waves a hand.

“Don’t worry about it. The company has been nice, to tell the truth. Usually, it’s just me, not that I mind it that way.” She takes another bite. “I’m shocked Quetzacoatl hasn’t been calling you nonstop.” 

He shrugs. “My phone’s busted. Old lizard couldn’t call if he wanted to- though I’m going to be in so much trouble for it later.” He laughs, and she shakes her head.

“Yeah you are. You better get a new one soon.” She elbows him playfully and then finds herself smiling back when he grins and bumps her in return. “What’s he had you running around for him anyways? Hopefully no more pithos full of misery?” 

“Nah, nothing quite like that. Had a weird crystal skull the other week I was supposed to be picking up from some Egyptian dude and bringing to him. That creeped me out. I swear it was watching me sleep.” 

They finish their food and spend the next two hours wandering around Chinatown, talking and laughing and trading stories of their adventures, and she really enjoys herself. More than she has at any point recently. They eventually make their way back around to her dojo and she unlocks the door, letting him in before she goes in behind him and pulls it closed, absolutely content as she kicks her shoes off at the door. 

“All right. I’m going to head upstairs now- good night Billy.” She says as he takes his boots off too, and he nods.

“Night. Sleep well.”

“You too.” With that, she goes up and flips the lights off, shutting the door softly behind herself and getting ready for bed. She’s still healing, and that means she needs sleep. Well. She always needs sleep, not that she tells the truth about it. Nightmares are the worst, but he’s already seen hers- it’s not like she’s going to scare him now. It’s not long before she’s fast asleep again.


	6. Chapter 6

Scathach wakes up at midnight to the sound of Billy throwing up in the bathroom downstairs and rubs her eyes, yawning before going down to make sure he’s all right. Even in spite of herself, she does care about him. 

“Are you okay?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe- he’s hunched over the toilet, head resting on his arm, looking pale and a bit wobbly. He jumps when she speaks and clears his throat. 

“Yeah- yeah. Fine, thanks.” He sits up a little more, glancing back at her before turning so he can see her better as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just, uh… just a nightmare.” He’s seen hers, and now she gets to see the aftermath of his. He waves a hand absently as if to brush it off as she frowns. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She comes over and offers him a hand that he takes, and she pulls him to his feet. 

He shrugs. “Maybe. Dunno if it would help.” 

“Sometimes it does.” She should know- she’s spent so many nights lying awake, afraid to sleep, afraid of the nightmares that she knows will come. Afraid of waking up screaming and accidentally hurting someone. It’s happened before.

All of that is running through her head as they go back out to the couch and sit down together, Scathach cross-legged as Billy rests his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees, clearing his throat. 

“Well, uh… guess I ought to try then?” He shrugs a little, running his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh. He looks exhausted, a little sad. “Um… was dreaming about- the night that made me give up guns forever. It’s- I-” He sniffles a little and wipes his face, then clears his throat and wipes his face again. “Fuck. Woke up to my friends being slaughtered around me by some rivals of ours. Barely made it out alive… I still have the scars.” He rubs his thigh, almost subconsciously. “Ain’t never been able to get that picture out of my head.” Another sigh as he calms down a little. “Never.” He glances over at her, and she nods, watching him.

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Her voice is soft. “It hurts to lose friends, especially like that. Out of nowhere.”

He nods. “Yeah. It does. You were right when you said you never forget the faces.” That was a long time ago, and she’s surprised he remembers, but she smiles softly anyways. 

“No. You don’t. All you can do is move on and keep living your life as it comes.” She reaches over and rubs his shoulder, and he leans into her touch a little as he sniffles and coughs and wipes his face, then lets out a deep sigh.

“Thanks.” He says quietly. “We should probably both get back to bed now…” He’s made no move to pull away from her though, and she pulls him over, slowly, gently, until she can hug him, and he practically melts into her, his body relaxing. How long has it been for him? For both of them- when was the last time anyone hugged her? Probably the last time she saw Joan… and that was a while ago. She settles on the couch, head resting on the arm, fingers running through his hair as his head rests on her stomach, his arms around her. They both need this. Not even in a romantic way- just the natural desire for touch, friendship, comfort. And it’s not long before he’s fast asleep, her fingers still running slowly through his hair as she dozes a bit herself.


	7. Chapter 7

They wake up the next morning still tangled together, and they both scramble apart, staring at the other. 

“We never speak of this again.” Scatty’s voice carries a warning in it, despite the fact that it was lovely to sleep curled up with him. She’s lonely.

He nods. “Yeah. Course. My lips are sealed.” He mimes locking them and throwing away the key, which draws a smile from her. 

“Good. Right. Um- so are you going home today? Well enough to travel?” She asks, watching him with her hands in her lap, and he nods again.

“Yeah. Thanks again for everything- letting me stay here. ‘Preciate it.” He smiles a little.

“Of course. I’ll see you around then Billy.” She gets up and offers him a hand to pull him to his feet, that he takes.

“Definitely. See you around Scathach.” With that, she heads upstairs as he gathers up his stuff and then heads home.

Thank god he’s finally gone. She gets her peace and quiet again. And then 15 minutes later she realizes she’s sad he left- that she wanted him to stay. Damnit. She shoves her fingers through her hair with a sigh before taking a long, hot shower and texting all her students that classes will begin again tomorrow. She’s wanted nothing more than to be left alone for so long, so why is she disappointed that he’s gone? Ugh. Stupid brain. Stupid feelings… and now she’s alone with her thoughts again as she goes upstairs, wandering about a bit aimlessly as she thinks- and they rapidly take a dark turn, jumping back to the battle that only happened a few days ago, his worried face as she stood there bleeding and empty-eyed, feeling like someone had just torn her heart out of her chest. She misses her sister and Prometheus, and she still can’t understand why Billy seems to care. He shouldn’t. He barely knows her, but he’s so sweet, and he cares so much about everyone, even her. Even though she’s not worthy of that affection. Or any affection, really… 

She looks down as her skin suddenly feels too warm and sighs as she realizes she’s scratched her arm bloody, grabbing a paper towel off the roll on the kitchen counter and wiping it down. Fuck. It’s been a while since the last time she did that.

She spends the rest of the day in a vague haze, not really sure what’s happening around her and just continuing to pick apart the battles, driving herself mad with the what-ifs. Her uncle would tell her that there’s no point in dwelling on them but he’s not here anymore and it’s all her fault- 

She flinches at nothing and then blinks and looks around her apartment, rubbing her arms and shifting a bit. Why is it dark outside? How long has she been sitting here at the kitchen table- how did she get here? The last thing she remembers was pacing downstairs. She gets to her feet and stretches, then wanders back to her bedroom and glances at the partially-full bottle of alcohol still sitting on the floor before making her decision and grabbing it before flopping down on the mattress. It can’t make things worse, right…?

She discovers she’s wrong a few hours later, waking up screaming and tangled in the blankets from a vivid nightmare. Right. Alcohol does make things worse. Oops. She grabs her phone off her nightstand and stares at it for a solid 10 minutes, typing and erasing a message to Billy before finally just giving up and tossing it back where it was with a groan, running her hands over her face. She settles down in the blankets again, and it doesn’t take much longer for her to fall back asleep. This time, she sleeps through the rest of the night quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

It’s another few days before she runs into Billy again, this time in a little coffee shop in the heart of San Francisco as she comes home from dropping off a package to Nicholas and Perenelle. She’s behind him in line, and her nose wrinkles as she hears what he’s ordered- four shots of espresso in a vanilla creme brulee sugar monstrosity, with extra whipped cream. Christ. That’s enough caffeine to kill a shetland pony. Enough sugar, too. She steps up to the counter and orders a plain cup of black tea, then moves off to the side to wait for it to be ready, thumbs hooked in her pockets as she looks around the shop absently. Billy does spot her, even though she was hoping he’d perhaps miss the fact she’s standing there, and he grins.

“Hey, stranger!” He sounds entirely too cheerful. “Where ya been?” 

“Around. Mostly in Chinatown though- where else?” She responds, and he laughs.

“Fair point, fair point. Got your dojo opened up again?” 

“Yes- I started classes again a few days ago. My students are pleased. Thank you for the help cleaning it up. It made it go much faster.” She finally cracks a bit of a smile as he preens like a bird with that bit of gratitude, and she finds, to her mortification, that she wants to make him do it again. Laugh again. He really does have a lovely laugh… There’s just something about him that keeps pulling her in.

“Well, good. I’m glad I was able to be of some help, at least. So, uh. I was wondering. You have time to give me another baton lesson at some point?” He sounds so hopeful as he asks, and she shrugs.

“I suppose. Are you doing anything this afternoon?” She gets her tea as their names are called and grabs his drink too, passing it to him. “That looks absolutely vile, by the way.”

“Thanks. It’s good! Don’t badmouth it ‘til you try it.” He takes a long drink of it as she adds just a touch of sugar to her tea and stirs it up, shaking her head. 

“I wouldn’t drink that if you paid me. I’m surprised your heart hasn’t exploded by this point, to be honest…” 

“Hah! Ain’t had a heartbeat in a long time. Stopped when I fell down a ravine and broke just about every bone in my body.” He grins and takes another drink of his monstrosity. “Now I drink too much caffeine to feel alive again. How ‘bout you? Do vampires have heartbeats?” He raises an eyebrow and she feels a familiar pang of annoyance. It’s endearing though, in a weird way. His nonstop exuberance for life and weirdly-personal questions. 

“Slow ones.” She admits. “Very slow. We don’t have to breathe to live either.”

He contemplates that for a few moments of blessed silence as they start walking back towards Chinatown. “Huh. Damn. That’s wild.” He says finally. “Can’t imagine just- not breathing. Sounds kinda panic inducing.” 

“I mean, I’ve never needed to. I don’t know what it’s like to have to, so… no panic involved?” She shrugs.

“Hey, I mean. Fair enough. But as a normal old human- or as normal as immortals can get- I think that would feel pretty weird. For me.” He’s practically skipping as they walk and Scatty’s eyeing him warily, as if she expects him to suddenly phase out of this plane of existence. 

“I’ve been told it’s a rather disconcerting feeling for the human immortals that have experienced it, yes.”

“Whoa, wait.” He spins around to face her, walking backwards, and she raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“How do I make it so I don’t need to breathe?”

“Magic.” Her voice is dry, and she smirks as he rolls his eyes.

“That’s obvious enough. But what *spell*?”

“I don’t remember. You’d have to ask Nicholas, I’m sure he has it somewhere. Now turn around before you walk into someone.” 

“I haven’t yet!” Billy gives her finger guns with his free hand, but he does turn back around as they walk. It’s only a few more minutes back to her dojo, and she finishes off her tea as she opens up the doors, shutting them behind him as she gets her boots off and he does the same.

They spend the next little while just having a normal baton combat lesson, eventually ending it and flopping down on the mats covering half the room, Scathach relaxing on her elbows as Billy sprawls out, catching his breath. “Sweating seems very unpleasant.” She remarks as she watches him, and he looks over.

“What, you don’t sweat?”

“Nope. Never have. Vampires are more evolved than humans.”

“Lucky. I’m so gross right now.” His nose wrinkles.

“Well, you know where my shower is if you want to clean up before you leave.” She sits up and looks back at him. “You’re doing well with two. Keep practicing though, and I’ll see you again next week, same time?” 

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” He finally gets up with a groan. “Now, if you were serious, I think I will actually take a shower before leaving.” 

She shrugs, getting to her feet as well. “Sure, go ahead. I don’t mind.” She follows him upstairs after tidying up everything they used, relaxing at the kitchen table and messing around on her phone as the bathroom door closes and she hears the water start running.

He comes out a few minutes later and she waves as he heads out. "Shut the door behind you please!" She calls after him.

"Yup!" He calls back, and she hears the heavy alley door clunk shut a minute later. And there's that weird pang of loneliness again... she likes this idiot cowboy apparently, even in spite of herself. Oh well... he'll be back next week. With that, she goes about her day as usual again.


	9. Chapter 9

They spend the next few weeks in that same kind of awkward dance, of Billy coming over for lessons, the two of them flitting around each other with shy glances and watching when the other thinks they’re not looking, until she’s drunk again when he comes by. He lets himself in, as usual, looking around for her as he takes his shoes off. Usually she’d be waiting for him, meditating or reading a book on the mats, but she’s not today- and there was no note, saying she’d be gone. She doesn’t usually forget things like that. However, she is upstairs with a bottle of whiskey. Again. And that’s how Billy finds her, sitting with her back to the kitchen cabinets, knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, staring blankly into space as she dissociates hard. She’s not had a fun morning. She looks up as he comes in though and swears in a language that’s decidedly not English and probably not from the last millennia. 

“Mmm… fuck. Is today Tuesday?” She goes to get up. “Sorry… lost track of time, I guess.” She mumbles, stumbling a bit with a soft groan as she grabs on to the counters for balance, the room spinning, and she flinches so badly she does fall backwards as the bottle shatters on the floor after she loses her grip on it. “Damnit.” She attempts to get up again, then looks confused as there’s a gentle hand on her shoulder. It’s Billy, and he looks very worried. 

“You stay right there. I’ll clean it up.” He says, and she protests for a few moments before giving in and plunking back down on the ground. 

“Fine.” Does she trust him, finally? Not entirely, but more than most. “... thank you.” She mutters, putting her head in her hands and rubbing her eyes. 

“Yeah. No problem. You all right?” 

“Just fucking peachy.” 

“Funny. I’m serious.”

“As fine as one can be while so sloshed they can’t think straight.”

“Ain’t healthy, you know.”

“Thanks, mom.” Her voice is dry and sarcastic. “Damn brain won’t shut up. Fucking… nightmares and shit.” She waves a hand. “S’ whatever. I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “We’ll get you to bed after this. Have you eaten today?”

“What d’you think?”

“I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“Ding ding ding. We have a winner.”

“Ain’t good for you to drink on an empty stomach either.” He gets the glass swept up and in the trash and makes her a plate of toast that she grudgingly starts eating, picking at it and presently refusing to get up from her spot on the floor. Currently, she’s just trying to work through why he’s still here, scowling at her toast as she thinks about it and he pulls a chair out at the kitchen table, sitting down as he watches her. 

“Why’re you still here?” She asks eventually, looking up from her plate. She’s eaten about half the toast but has zero appetite at the moment and just reaches up to set the rest on the counter.

“You’re my friend.” He shrugs. “You’re my friend and I care about you.”

“Quetzalcoatl hasn’t put you up to killing me?”

“Course not. He’s terrified of you, you know.” He laughs, and she does smile- just a bit.

“Good. He should be.” There’s another few moments of awkward silence before Billy gets up and offers her his hands, which she takes after a moment’s hesitation. She’s too smashed to walk straight so he helps her back to her bedroom and she flops down on her bed, wriggling around until she’s cocooned in the blankets and letting out a tired sigh. “Lesson tomorrow, then.” She mumbles into her pillow, and he nods.

“See you tomorrow. Lights on or off?”

“Off, please. Night.” She yawns as he turns the lights off and shuts the door behind himself softly, and she’s out cold in no time. 

When she wakes up screaming a few hours later though, clawing at her chest until it bleeds and feeling the suffocating panic of drowning in your own blood, even though she doesn’t technically have to breathe, he’s pushing the door open, coming over and taking her hands, squeezing them tight as he keeps her from hurting herself more. His mouth is moving, he’s talking to her, but her ears are ringing as she stares at him uncomprehendingly. She has no clue what he’s saying- even though she’s much more sober. The ringing fades, and she’s suddenly able to understand what he’s saying.

“-happened? Are you okay? Oh, shit, you’re bleeding.” He looks worried, a frown on his face and his brows crinkled, and she just leans forward and rests her head on his chest after gently taking her hands back from him. He freezes, and then slowly, very slowly, starts stroking her hair, letting out a sigh as she practically melts under his touch. “Shit. You scared me there. Thought we’d been ambushed by angry cucubaths or something again.” He jokes a little.

“No… no. Just a nightmare.” 

“Yeah… I figured.”

“Why are you still here, though? I thought you’d gone home.”

“Nah. Thought about it, but with how drunk you are, I was worried.”

“I’m 10,000 years old, Billy. I can take care of myself.” It’s a very halfhearted protest though, as she genuinely is glad he’s here right now. He pats her head and then takes a step back.

“We could all use a hand every now and again. Lemme go get the shit to clean you up.” With that, he disappears to the bathroom and she rolls her head, stretching out her neck and letting out a soft grunt as it pops loudly. Fuck, she’s stiff… and hungover. Huh. That hasn’t happened in a while. He comes back a minute later and sets some gauze pads and peroxide down on the nightstand, opening one up and cleaning out the bloody scrapes on her chest before dabbing antibiotic cream on them. His hands are rough, but careful and gentle. 

She gets up and pulls a hoodie on when he’s done. “Guess I won’t die now.” Perfect. Deflect with humor.

“Hah. Yeah, no dying today.” He throws everything away and then turns to her, holding his arms out and offering a hug. She hesitates for a long, long moment, watching him, then gives in and hugs him, relaxing into the embrace and tucking her head under his chin. Their bodies fit together perfectly, like this was always meant to be. 

How long has it been since the last time someone hugged her like this? How long has it been since anyone saw through her walls like he does? So far, he’s read her like very few other people can, and it’s equal parts terrifying and heartwarming. She doesn’t like to appear weak, or vulnerable or in need of help, but something about this stupid cowboy just knocks through all those walls, and as much as she hates it? She desperately needs it. Even she can’t last forever without friendship and kindness and a bit of affection. 

“M’ glad you stayed.” Scathach mumbles.

“I’m glad I stayed too.” He rubs her back, then lets go and she crawls into bed, laying with her back to him as she wordlessly scoots over, flips the blankets up, and then sticks her hand out in a wordless invitation. After a few moments, he takes his boots off and then she feels the bed dip as he settles in behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest as he gets both of them good and tucked into the blankets. Quiet falls once he’s settled, and she’s out like a light again, exhausted. The nightmares don’t bother her again tonight.


End file.
